


May I Take Your Order?

by Lady Divine (fhartz91)



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drabble, Drama, Enemies to Friends, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Minor Bullying, New York, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-11 00:50:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4414592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/Lady%20Divine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt is waiting tables at the Spotlight Diner, being harassed by a table of obnoxious men, when low and behold Sebastian Smythe joins in the fray. This may end up being the longest night of his life, but for a reason he doesn't suspect.</p><p>Written for the anon prompt "Kurt and Sebastian, after Sebastians college friends hit on/bullied Kurt while he worked at the spotlight diner?? :)" I based some of my finer details on the diner that the Spotlight diner is based off of, Ellen’s Stardust Diner. Their singing wait staff are called Stardusters, so I called mine Spotlighters. The menu items I took from there, too.</p><p>***I know a lot of you have read this already, but I promised Shell a long time ago that I would write a follow up to this, and never got around to it. I'm putting this here because that follow up is in the works :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	May I Take Your Order?

 

“So does the Ahi Tuna Burger have any fish in it?” the annoying blond man says with a smirk, “because, you know, I’m allergic to fish.”

Kurt sighs, putting a hand to his forehead and fighting to curb his exasperation while the four fuckwads seated at table six in his section snicker like they are in the presence of comedy gold. In reality, all they have managed to do is waste twenty minutes questioning Kurt in detail about every item on the menu. Kurt wonders for a second just how much trouble he would get in with Gunther if he says, “No…no fish at all in the Ahi Tuna Burger”, lets this guy order it, and stands by to watch him die of anaphylactic shock. But in the name of staying out of jail and paying his NYADA tuition, he reconsiders.

“Well,” Kurt says slowly, talking as if to a particularly stupid and ugly child, “Ahi Tuna happens to be a fish, so if you’re allergic to fish, I would recommend you don’t order it.” Then, after a quick stroke of genius, he adds, “And seeing as we serve other menu items with fish in them, you may want to consider going to another restaurant…you know, for the sake of your health.”

The four men hoot and holler obnoxiously as they catch on to Kurt’s ploy.

“Aww, you’re not trying to get rid of us, are you, princess?” This comment comes from another man, a muscular brunette with striking blue eyes and a crooked, roguish smile. Kurt might consider him handsome if he could learn to stop talking. Regardless of how good looking he is though, Kurt bristles at the nickname and the myriad of bad memories it conjures.

“Not trying,” Kurt says with a plastered on grin. _‘Failing,’_ he thinks regretfully. “Look, should I give you gentlemen a little more time?”

_‘Please say yes,’_ Kurt chants in his head. _‘Please say yes, please say yes…’_

If he can get away from this table for a second, he can ‘take an intermission’ and step out back for a cleansing breath of cold air before coming back in to face these assholes again.

“No, no, I think we know what we want…” A third man with carefully mussed, sandy brown hair and eyes to match replies. He has obvious streaks tracing along his hairline from a poorly applied at-home spray tan. He takes Kurt in slowly from head to toe with a strange, hungry look in his eye. Kurt feels a mixture of  revulsion and fear. His gaydar didn’t particularly ping in the red when he passed by this table, so Kurt isn’t exactly sure what this man’s game is.

“Fine,” Kurt says, holding his pen poised over his notepad and staring back at the men expectantly.

The fourth man glances over Kurt’s shoulder in the direction of the door and his face brightens instantly.

“Oh yeah!” he yells. “Now the party can begin! The man is finally here!”

Kurt rolls his eyes and turns to face the newcomer, not wanting to be caught off-guard when the mystery miscreant joins the group. Kurt’s steely eyes widen in shock as they lock with a familiar green-eyed stare.

_‘What in gay hell?’_ Kurt moans quietly, wondering if the night can get any worse.

Sebastian’s slowly burning smirk is all Kurt needs to see to know that he recognizes Kurt right away, even after two years.

“Well, well, well,” Sebastian purrs, shrugging his overcoat from his shoulders, “Who do we have here?” He slides into the booth with his friends. “You know, I always knew you would end up wearing an apron and serving me.”

Kurt scoffs at the obvious insinuation, but manages to stay composed.

_‘And now the hyenas have their leader,’_ Kurt thinks, as the four other men snigger ridiculously at Sebastian’s lame jab.

Kurt represses the thousands of snide comments that spring to mind. He needs this job, and Gunther isn’t a particularly discerning boss. He would likely fire Kurt for much less than making a sarcastic remark to a customer…or tossing a glass of water in his face. He just has to make it through this one order and then he’s off for the evening. But to be honest, he’s not looking forward to that either. Another lonely night of eating cheesecake and watching _Moulin Rouge_ with Rachel and Santana.

Suddenly, verbally sparring with Sebastian didn’t seem like such a bad way to blow some time.

“Well, why don’t I give you guys another minute so your friend here can figure out what he wants.” Kurt hands Sebastian a menu. He catches Sebastian’s green eyes and startles slightly. The look in those usually mocking eyes is different, softer, almost apologetic…but only for a second before the leer returns.

“Oh, I know what I want.”

Kurt rolls his eyes, surprised when Sebastian laughs in a way that doesn’t sound taunting or cruel. When Kurt looks back, Sebastian is blushing…honest to goodness blushing, and the slight tint of color in his cheeks accompanied by the sound of that genuine laugh makes something warm pool in the pit of Kurt’s stomach.

Kurt is even more surprised that his first instinct isn’t to just shove it away.

It’s been two years. Maybe Sebastian Smythe has changed.

Blaine sure as hell did.

Kurt sighs as the image of his ex-fiance makes a sudden and unwelcome intrusion in his thoughts.

“Aren’t you going to ask me?”

Sebastian’s smooth voice interrupts and brings Kurt back to the present. He shakes his head, realizing that Sebastian had been waiting while Kurt got caught up in his momentary daydream.

“Ask you what?” Kurt asks, sparing a glance at the amused eyes of the pack staring at him, grinning, but not in a good-natured or kind way…not like Sebastian.

“What I want to order?” Sebastian says slowly. “I said I knew what I wanted.”

“Right.” Kurt tries to recover. “What would you like?”

Sebastian opens his mouth, but seems at the last second to change his mind.

“What do you recommend for dinner?” Sebastian asks. The question takes Kurt off-guard. It seems to Kurt that it’s more than a simple inquiry. It sounds more like an invitation.

Kurt has a standby response for such a question. Gunther always tells them to recommend whatever is the most expensive, and that’s the Walter Cronkite (kobe style lean waygu beef), but that doesn’t seem like a good enough answer.

“I recommend the Terrine Board,” Kurt says, slightly hushed. Sebastian’s eyes widen. He actually looks impressed, and for some reason that makes Kurt giddy with pride.

“Really?” Sebastian asks. “They serve a Terrine Board here?”

“No,” Kurt says quickly. Sebastian’s confused eyes snap up to meet his. “They have an excellent one at The Breslin though. On 16th West?” Kurt leans in a little closer so as not to be heard by the passing wait staff. “The food here is pretty awful.”

Sebastian laughs, and Kurt feels his own cheeks glow red this time.

He’s flirting. Kurt’s actually flirting. And with Sebastian Smythe of all people.

But the strangest thing of all is it actually feels nice.

“Kurt!” Santana’s voice carries through the din of the diners, the clink of silverware, and the singing of other ‘Spotlighters’ at a nearby table wishing some poor, cowering teenage boy a happy birthday. Kurt looks up and notices her waving him away.

“Excuse me one moment,” Kurt says, addressing the whole table but talking only to Sebastian.

Kurt turns, only vaguely registering a whispered, “Watch this” and the chuckle that follows before he feels a heavy hand smack him hard on the ass. Kurt spins back, stunned, in time to see the four men explode with laughter. He stumbles in front of another waiter carrying a tray of food, unable to stop himself before they collide, and the contents of the tray – two milkshakes (one strawberry and one chocolate), a plate of nachos, an order of fries and a Be Bop A Lula Burger -  come crashing down on Kurt’s head.

That’s when the uproar begins. Ice-cream drips down Kurt’s forehead and into his eyes, so he doesn’t witness the actual commotion. Familiar hands grab him by the arms and help him to his feet. Sobba (the waiter whose tray of food is currently staining Kurt’s clothes) apologizes profusely, while Rachel leads him away, but above the sound of ‘I’m so sorry, Kurt! I didn’t see you!’, and Rachel’s nonstop fussing, he hears Sebastian screaming furiously.

“What the fuck is your damage, asshole!?” is the last thing Kurt hears before Rachel ushers him into the bathroom and locks the door.

Dani takes over Kurt’s tables while Kurt hides in the bathroom till the end of his shift, his head crowded by too many memories of Slushies to the face for his taste. Luckily, the employees have their own restroom with a shower, so he doesn’t have to resort to a whore’s bath in the sink, and as he doesn’t like walking home smelling like chili cheese fries, he also has a change of clothes. Rachel tells him when the rush has died down so that he can leave with his dignity intact, but he can’t help noticing a happy little glimmer in her eye as she leaves. Kurt sighs, not looking forward to the days of teasing that little glimmer represents.

Kurt wanders back out to the dining room, his eyes darting nervously towards table six, just to make sure Sebastian and his pack have cleared out. Kurt stops short when he sees the pack is gone…but Sebastian is still sitting at the booth, hands clasped in front of him, and does he look nervous? He must feel Kurt staring at him because his head pops up and looks straight at Kurt, a sheepish smile on his face. Curious, Kurt makes his way over to the table.

“What are you still doing here?” Kurt asks quietly.

“I…I wanted to make sure you were okay,” Sebastian starts, without a hint of his trademark snark or cynicism tainting the concern in his voice.

“Oh,” is all Kurt can think to say. “Where are your friends?” he adds, not wanting the silence to become too awkward.

“Funny thing,” Sebastian says, standing from the table, “they all ordered the most expensive thing on the menu, and then took it to go.”

Kurt shakes his head and laughs.

“That…that is strange,” Kurt supplies, looking down at his shoes, worrying the now spotless floor with the toe of his Docs.

“Yeah,” Sebastian agrees. “But I got a good look at the receipt, and it seems they were nice enough to leave you a pretty generous tip.”

Kurt bites his lip. He can’t seem to stop the grin that spreads without his permission.

“Thanks,” Kurt says, glancing up at Sebastian through long, brown lashes.

“Who says I had anything to do with it, babe?” Sebastian remarks, but it’s not biting. Kurt realizes that Sebastian probably doesn’t say things like “thank you” and “you’re welcome” very often, so this is the best Kurt’s going to get.

Kurt nods, offering Sebastian a small wave as he quietly heads toward the door. A hand stops Kurt just before he reaches it, and Kurt looks down in astonishment at the fingers now wrapped around his arm.

“Hey, have you eaten yet?” Sebastian says quickly. Kurt knows he’s trying to sound nonchalant, but in the time Kurt’s known him, he’s never heard that strange, nervous tone in his voice before. “Because I haven’t,” Sebastian continues, “and I would just have something here, but I hear from a reliable source that the food sucks.”

Kurt sputters, trying not to let on that he said that in case Gunther is stalking somewhere, listening.

“Uh, no…” Kurt says, “I haven’t eaten yet. Did you have anything particular in mind?”

“Well…” Sebastian opens the door with his free hand and ushers Kurt outside. Kurt eyes, with a quizzical look, the hand that still holds his arm. “I’ve heard that The Breslin has a wonderful Terrine Board. I thought I might try it out, especially since…” Sebastian sneaks a hand into his pocket and pulls out a blue American Express card, “it’s on Dan tonight.”

Kurt doesn’t ask, but he deduces that Dan was the fucktard that smacked him on the ass.

“Ah,” Kurt says, nodding in understanding, “so you stole your friend’s credit card.”

“Not that much of a friend,” Sebastian says, “and I didn’t steal it. He offered.”

Kurt isn’t all too convinced, and his expression must show it.

“He did!” Sebastian says in his defense. “But…” Sebastian leans in a little closer, talking quietly into Kurt’s ear, “I’d be more than willing to pay if you wanted to consider this a date.”

Sebastian offers Kurt his arm with a slight, gentlemanly bow.

Kurt can’t help it when his heart stutters at the sight. He can’t think of anything to say that won’t sound trite, condescending, or downright stupid, so he simply weaves his arm through Sebastian’s and smiles, leading him away.


End file.
